Essence of an Emerald
by Angie5
Summary: Ten years after graduation, an estranged trio work to find a stolen jewel with magical capabilities. Chapter 2: Harry appears.
1. Default Chapter

Essence of an Emerald  
  
(Author's Note: This is a silly story.)  
  
Hermione Granger raced into the meeting room of the Department of Research and Development. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized to the staff breathlessly. "There was a traffic factor and then an elevator factor and..." She shrugged nervously. "Anyway, Good Morning." She patted down her hair a little bit. At twenty-eight years old, she was the youngest Director of Research in the British Ministry's history—and the only woman.  
  
It took a lot to maintain the image of the astute and brilliant young woman who received the job after a brief internship.  
  
After getting past the initial awkwardness of reporting to a supervisor younger than their own children, Hermione's staff quickly developed a strong respect and admiration for the young witch. With her help, the Magical Use Committee had succeeded in isolating the most powerful elements in the Eyad Emerald, the most puzzling and mysterious magical relic of the age. They turned to her with that respect and listen to her speak about the week's projects. After she had finished, Hermione turned to her own office/laboratory and began to set up for further testing.  
  
"Have you seen the Daily Prophet today, Ms. Granger?" asked Daryl Bernard, her personal assistant inquired. "Page 1—Right on the front. YOUNG DIRECTOR OF RESEARCH ISOLATES EYAD'S ELEMENTS."  
  
Hermione wrinkled her nose at the tacky headline and unlocked her door. "Some writers never seem to get away from alliteration," she remarked dryly.  
  
Daryl flipped through the paper. The first page of the Prophet was of the scientific and magical significance of this discovery. Further in was—"Hey!" exclaimed Daryl. "Ms. Granger, they did a whole biographical sketch on you."  
  
Hermione looked up from her cup of coffee and the papers she had been rustling through. "I cannot imagine what they found to fill a whole page." She laughed. "I'm not like those other geniuses who spent fifty years doing this, another fifty in Bulgaria researching the effects of gillseed on dragons..."  
  
"Interesting that you should mention that." Daryl held the paper up and began to read. "'I am very proud of Hermione,'" he read in an a strongly accented voice, "says her childhood sweetheart, Quidditch star Viktor Krum." He skimmed through the paper once more. "Then it goes on to mention your high school adventures, your parents tragic deaths..."  
  
"We weren't 'childhood sweethearts', you know," she said after a few moments of clearly not paying attention to her assistant. "We went out a few times. I was fifteen." "And if their deaths were so "tragic", why did the Daily Prophet fail to report the attack on a muggle home?"  
  
"Funny." Daryl read through the article again. "The rest of this article is all about your love life, social life and fashion favorite. Not a thing more about your scientific breakthrough."  
  
That caught Hermione's attention. "What?" she exclaimed. "Let me see that. "Her eyes darkened as she read the name of the author. "Rita Skeeter."  
  
Disgruntled, she set down both the paper and her wand. "Daryl, connect me to the Daily Prophet. I have words to exchange with this woman." Her eyes flashed angrily as she recalled Skeeter's promise at the end of her fourth year. Clearly, this article was a violation of that agreement.  
  
Daryl began to protest, but Hermione hushed him up. Seconds later, the head of Rita Skeeter was in her fireplace.  
  
Hermione was quite startled by the sudden appearance, but she was determined to maintain her tranquility. "Ms. Skeeter," Hermione began as she leaned back in her plush chair. "Pray tell me why you printed that filthy, demeaning article about me in the newspaper today."  
  
Rita gave a merry laugh. "Oh Hermione dear," she exclaimed. "I simply couldn't resist. The girl you were, the woman you became. The quiet rebel with an actual cause in Hogwarts compared to the successful witch you became! The tragedy of becoming an orphan. Surely, Dear—you must see that I merely did the public a favor." Another laugh was inserted. "They were all dying to know about the clever, attractive young witch."  
  
Hermione was not thus swayed by the compliment. "It doesn't matter how much they want to know about me. What matters is in the attempt to inform the public, you misled them!" Suddenly aware of her noisy shouting, she hushed her voice to a calm and collected tone. "You wrote lies about me and now I'm going to inform the Ministry that you are an Animagus."  
  
"Do what you want, darling. I registered two years ago," soothed Rita. "I found new ways of getting the dirt on you celebrity types."  
  
"Flattery will get you nowhere," hissed Hermione dangerously. "Never. Do. That. Again."  
  
"Or what, you'll scold me?" said Rita sarcastically. "Hermione, my dear girl. This is what you don't understand. You are young."  
  
"Yes," agreed Hermione coldly, reaching for her wand.  
  
"You are talented. You are an attractive woman." Rita sent her a strong look. "Do you understand what I'm getting at?"  
  
"My understanding of the situation is that you are going to leave before you annoy me anymore!" shouted Hermione, fed up with this shallow woman.  
  
"My point Hermione is that no one of the average Wizarding world has not the slightest clue what the elements of the Eyad Emerald are. How they affect their life or the Wizarding future—"  
  
"Well, that's just ridiculous," fumed Hermione. "The elements we isolated allow magic to be kept in a tangible form. It's practically a panacea for any difficulties in the future." She struggled to explain further, but Rita cut her off.  
  
"It doesn't matter. Girl, the people don't CARE about the emerald. They care about you. They like what they see and they want more. And as a writer, I give people what they want."  
  
Rita smiled beguilingly. "I'll be leaving now. I look forward to seeing you soon, Ms. Granger."  
  
And with a poof, Rita Skeeter disappeared and Hermione was left alone in her office once more. She glanced towards the ancient Grandfather clock in her office. "Nearly nine thirty. Practically the whole morning gone." Sighing unhappily, she began to further unpack her instruments to further test the elements of the stone.  
  
With her experiment set up a half hour later, Hermione opened her door and entered the hallway, planning to retrieve the stone.  
  
"Ah, Ms. Granger!" exclaimed Daryl, pleased to see his supervisor. "These two gentlemen wish to talk to you about security."  
  
Both were cloaked in long, dark robes and had the black, penetrating eyes of one who knew evil and could recognize it. Eyes of one who knew torture and malevolence the way a young child knows the face of their mother.  
  
"Gentlemen," greeted Hermione stiffly, shaking their hands. "I'm Hermione Granger."  
  
"Smithee. Department of Mysteries," answered the one on the left. "That's Drakes."  
  
"An honor, Miss Granger," drawled the former. "We don't normally descend upon your department, but given the unusual circumstances—"  
  
"Of your mysterious new subject," chimed in Smithee, "We'd like to offer our services. For protecting the gem."  
  
Again, they turned those cold, unblinking eyes onto Hermione and she felt herself crumbling. "Well....err.... Sir, we really have to keep it here. For scientific purposes. I'm conducting some tests and trials about the extracts and it really can't leave. Plus...we do have excellent security here." She looked behind her at Daryl. "Right?"  
  
"Of course, Ms. Granger," he affirmed. "The best."  
  
The two men looked dismayed. "The Minister willed it that we take the stone back to our headquarters. Where it cannot leave."  
  
"I seem to recall an earlier time when one of the Department of Mysteries prized artifacts was stolen in a fairly blunt operation," snapped Hermione, offended at the Minister's implication. "This stone is more important than any prophecy you have in there. How about you guard what you already have and let me take care of my own department!"  
  
"I have a compromise," conceded Drakes. "You allow us to guard the actual stone and you continue to run tests on the elements you've extracted."  
  
"Because I have not finished the extraction!" shouted Hermione. "And unless people stop bothering me, it will never get done! Now if you will excuse me, sir!" she snarled. She marched down the hall and opened the various safes and vaults before claiming her prize. By the time she had returned to her laboratory, the two men were gone.  
  
"That was strange," commented Daryl as he approached her later in the workday. "They didn't make an appointment and didn't leave a card when they left." He shook his head. "I cannot remember such melancholy people in the Ministry since the Great War."  
  
Hermione shrugged. "Some people haven't been able to get over the war." She looked up. "Look, the day's almost over. Why don't you tell everyone to clean up early? It's been a long day and tomorrow's going to be longer." She tapped the emerald. "Damn thing won't cooperate as much as I had hoped." She wrapped up the stone and handed it to her assistant. "Why don't you lock this back up and leave? I'll finish logging my findings, lock up the elements and do the same?"  
  
Daryl shrugged. "Who can refuse an early dismissal? Good evening, Ms. Granger," he said cordially to the witch.  
  
"Good evening," she responded. He left her office.  
  
Three hours later found Hermione still working. Another "important discovery" had urged her to remain in the laboratory before she threw up her hands, declaring she needed her whole team to complete the task. Frustrated and tired, she wrapped up the vials she had been working with and locked them in her personal safe. "They probably need some kind of special refrigeration anyhow," she declared, justifying her laziness.  
  
With that, Hermione left for her flat.  
  
(A/N—Word to random ramblings and unplanned stories! I don't really know what this chapter was about, but the second one has a plot. Yes. I promise. I'm also a better writer than this story exhibits.) 


	2. It's Gone!

(A/N: It's not a SILLY story per say, its just more cliché than I usually lean to. Oh well, please read and review. Please, mon lieblings?)  
  
Hermione unlocked the door to her flat and immediately threw herself onto her couch, moving her cat Tybalt over. It was nearly nine o'clock—she had spent way too much time at the office than she had planned. Shrugging, she entered her kitchen. Hermione poured herself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and began to eat her dinner, deliberately ignoring the imaginary complaints of her mother.  
  
After her parents became victims of Voldemort, she had heard their voices everywhere. This was odd in many ways, considering she had rarely spoken to them during their lives. But every conversation Hermione and her parents had during her entire life manifested itself and appeared constantly. Every remark they had made about the Wizarding world suddenly was full of forbidding and omens. Now it was ten years later and Hermione was still trying to suppress their warnings and beliefs.  
  
"I'm too tired for dinner and I'll brush my teeth directly after I finish," Hermione told herself, taking a bit of the cereal. She finished, washed her bowl and brushed her teeth. After completing these menial tasks, she settled down on the couch once more and opened her daily planner.  
  
She quickly planned the next day's activities to be fulfilled and reports that had to be completed. Stretching, she stood up and stroked her sleeping cat. Crookshanks had died five years ago and after a grieving period, she had purchased Tybalt.  
  
Sighing, Hermione glanced across her apartment to her desk. Underneath a dozen papers lay an unopened letter from Harry Potter. She knew that she owed him a response—after all, they were best friends for eight years and he been her chief comforter after her parents' deaths. The letter said nothing that Hermione hadn't heard before—how she should rejoin the Order, prepare some defense for when the next Dark Time would come, how the stage was setting for that time. He would make a casual reference to Ginny Weasley's condition—she still lay in a coma from the last battle ten years prior. Then the letter would urge her to contact Ron and make peace with him. Finally, it would be signed "Your Friend, Harry Potter".  
  
After a dozen of these letters, Hermione had stopped explaining her actions and making excuses. Harry, Ginny, Ron.... it was sad, but they were no longer part of her life. They were her life back when she was a teenager, back when they all had a unifying purpose and unlimited courage. The fight was over and so was that era of her life.  
  
"I'll write him a note tomorrow," declared Hermione weakly, knowing fully that she would procrastinate and not do it. Shrugging, she changed for bed and turned off the light.  
  
Her alarm clock went off at five o'clock with the same song as it did every day. The Fates played a cruel joke on Hermione—every morning at five, the song "Believe" by Cher came on. Hermione hated Cher.  
  
She smacked the OFF button and got up. She showered and dressed carefully, as she did every day. Hermione didn't know much about clothing and fashion, but she did have difficulty looking young and commanding at the same time. Shoving her feet into her work shoes, she grabbed a banana and locked her door. Usually she enjoyed the half-mile walk to the Research Department but today she hurried along the road, anxious to arrive. She mentally reviewed all she had accomplished the previous day and what she must accomplish that day.  
  
"Good morning," Hermione said haphazardly as she entered the building. All conversation stopped as she entered the Conference Room. "Why isn't anyone sitting?" she said nervously.  
  
The scientists and employees shuffled their feet and looked at the floor.  
  
"Mr. Bernard?" She turned to Daryl, who refused to meet her eyes.  
  
"Ms. Granger, perhaps we could go to your office and I'll explain...." He trailed off. She nodded briskly and motioned for him to follow her.  
  
The door was securely closed before Daryl began. "I'll spare you the formalities. There was a robbery last night."  
  
Hermione groped blindly for her chair before she sat down. "What was stolen?" she asked, knowing full well what he was about to tell her . "The Emerald and all the extracts. Their vault was completely emptied."  
  
"Was my office broken into?"  
  
"No, the offices were intact." Daryl's words were not out of his mouth before Hermione was furiously opening the locks on her personal vault.  
  
"Eureka!" she shirked in joy. The extracts were still wrapped up, exactly as she left them twelve hours ago. "All is not lost," she breathed at last.  
  
"How.... why are they there?" asked her assistant, full of relief.  
  
"Last night, I was too tired to walk to the Department's safe, so I just locked them in mine," blushed Hermione, embarrassed to admit her laziness.  
  
"How much of the Stone were you able to extract?"  
  
Hermione shook her head sadly. "Not all of it. The Stone is still too powerful to simply be ignored. If it gets into the wrong hands, it could cause some serious destruction. I think."  
  
"You think? Is it evil or isn't it?"  
  
"We haven't exactly had it very long," Hermione defended. "We don't know the full constraints and powers of the Emerald." She glanced at her watch. "Why don't you call the Ministry and let them know what happened?"  
  
"Sure. We wanted to do it as soon as we got in, but we figured we should wait for you. In case you had taken it home or something," explained Daryl.  
  
"I wish I had," said Hermione sadly. "Isn't it strange that it was stolen yesterday? I really wish I had given the Emerald to those two agents."  
  
"I'll go call the Ministry."  
  
"I want to go look at the holding room, where they were." Hermione put down her briefcase and took off her coat. "Has someone looked at the security tapes yet?"  
  
Daryl shook his head. "Nothing has been done."  
  
Still deeply upset, Hermione struggled to remain composed. As her steps echoed down the hall, she began to make connections and decipher exactly what had happened the previous day.  
  
"In the morning, the men from the Dept. of Mysteries came," she reviewed. "Smithee and Drakes. The Minister dispatched them to express concern over our lax security and.... I'm going to be fired!" she wailed. Sucking in her breath, she entered the room with the vaults. She unlocked the safe and saw for herself what she knew was true. "Okay. The Emerald is definitely not in here," she declared. Sighing weakly, she reached for her wand out of her pocket. "I'm aware this won't work, but it's worth a try. Accio Emerald!"  
  
Nothing happened. To her dismay, she realized that that was a worthless waste of time.  
  
Hermione locked up the safe and left the room, journeying to the Security department. "Good morning," she greeted.  
  
Bill Abbot and Helga McCaffery silenced her. "We're watching the tapes of the entire day," explained Helga as she paused the tape. "Even though we have the volume up, the slightest noise could override what we're looking for." "And what is that?"  
  
"Most spells make a small noise." Bill pointed to the screen. "If someone apparated inside the vault and then disapperated, we might be able to hear it with the correct applied technology." Hermione nodded. "I won't disturb you."  
  
She returned to Daryl's station outside her office. "Did you contact the Ministry?" He nodded, covering the receiver on his telephone. The Ministry had developed a kind of magical telephone that most offices used. "They sent an Auror over and are preparing a team for the investigation."  
  
"Wonderful." She turned to her office. "I'm not fired, right?"  
  
Daryl laughed. "No, they didn't mention that."  
  
She opened the door to her office and let out a muffled scream. Harry Potter himself was poking around in her office, sifting through papers and playing with her stapler.  
  
"Good morning, Harry," she said calmly. She held out her hand. "I'm sorry that we have to see each other under such unhappy circumstances."  
  
"No, you're not," said Harry expressionlessly. "But it is nice to see you.. Mind if I sit down?"  
  
"Not at all," answered Hermione, sitting on the executive side of her desk. "Can I offer you anything? Coffee, maybe?"  
  
"No, thank you." He rubbed his hands together. "Why don't you tell me why I'm here, what the story is, what's being done.... etcetera?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "To begin from the very beginning, I came here as an intern, I helped with the Emerald—"  
  
Harry stopped her. "I read that much in the newspaper yesterday."  
  
"So you know the whole story! Why don't I just tell you about how yesterday..."  
  
"I don't know the whole story," he interrupted. "I only know what the newspaper told me, which was basically your hair color and age."  
  
Hermione blushed. "Fine. We recently extracted many of the magical properties of the Eyad Emerald, where we believe much of our Wizarding powers came from. We know that magic is old, but scientists really have no idea how magic appeared. Our breakthroughs with this gem were leading us to a link between the Emerald and our heritage.  
  
Yesterday," she continued. "We had a surprise visit from the Department of Mysteries. Two agents, Agent Smithee and Agent Drakes."  
  
"Did you see their badges?" Harry stared at her. "You did ask to see their badges, right?"  
  
"I only met with them for about five minutes," admitted Hermione. "My assistant Daryl Bernard met with them and argued with them about security before I entered."  
  
"They wanted to know about security?"  
  
"They said that the Ministry had sent them. They were worried about the Emerald and our "lax security", claiming the Minister was afraid that such a powerful relic would be stolen."  
  
"They aren't members of the Ministry," concluded Harry. "They would have brought a written order."  
  
"Shit!" cursed Hermione.  
  
"Why, happened next?"  
  
"We err, exchanged harsh words. Actually, there was no exchanging." Hermione blushed, recalling her behavior. "I basically told them to tell the Minister to mind his own business and we could handle our own." She though for a moment. "Maybe it's best that they are fake agents—otherwise, I'd surely be fired."  
  
"Did you allow them to see any of your experiments?"  
  
"No, after I left them I retrieved the Emerald and extracts from the vaults. I don't think they followed me, but I can't back that up."  
  
Harry was making notes on a notebook. "Continue."  
  
"After retrieving the stone, I returned here and worked until maybe five o'clock. Daryl—my assistant," she elaborated. "Daryl came in and commented on the two agents and how they didn't leave their cards. I wrapped up the Emerald and asked him to lock it up for me. Then I told him that there was really nothing left for him to do and he could leave. I continued working on the extracts until I realized I needed my research team. Then I wrapped up my work and locked in my personal safe, over there." She pointed across the room.  
  
"What time did you finish and leave?"  
  
Hermione hesitated. "Between 8 and a quarter to 9. I got home at 9 and it's a ten-minute walk. I probably left at a quarter to 9," she concluded.  
  
Harry smiled. "Was anyone in the office when you left?"  
  
Hermione laughed out loud. "Of course not, the work day ends at five thirty. There was someone on night watch in the Security Room, but I don't know the schedule."  
  
"I see. Mind if I look around for awhile?" he asked, getting up.  
  
"No, not at all," lied Hermione. She secretly couldn't wait for him to leave—his presence was making her uncomfortable.  
  
"Looks like we're all going to be working together again," he commented as he continued poking around her safe.  
  
"Who's all of us?" asked Hermione, looking up from her paperwork.  
  
Harry looked up in surprise. "You. Me. Ron."  
  
"Swell," said Hermione. "Absolutely perfect." 


End file.
